Love is Cruel
by hrhrionastar
Summary: Post-Tears, Richard wakes up to find he's not at the Pillars of Creation anymore...and someone very familiar is in the cell next door. Written for madmguillotine, on seekerrarepair. Richard/Nicci.
1. Darken Rahl's Wish List

**Darken Rahl's Wish List**

"I killed you. I tried to confess you." Kahlan spoke as if she were trying to impress upon Richard the terrible depth of her crime.

He smiled into her beautiful eyes, trying to reassure her. "It didn't work."

"How is that possible?" Kahlan demanded shakily.

Zedd beamed at them, and explained, "The same reason you were brought out of the Con Dar when Richard died. For the same reason that your tears formed a new Stone." He paused for a moment of smug self-satisfaction, then went on. "Because there is no magic in all the world more powerful than the love you and Richard have for each other."

Richard felt the euphoric joy of having sealed the rift, the bubble of happy anticipation at the thought of making Kahlan his wife…He leaned forward and kissed her. A kiss that promised all that was to come. As their lips met, he closed his eyes.

When Richard opened his eyes, he wasn't at the Pillars of Creation anymore. He blinked, confused. "Kahlan?" he asked into the dank gloom, sitting up and rubbing his head.

He didn't see Kahlan anywhere. He seemed to be in a dungeon—not far away were bars set close together, and he sat on a rotting wooden bench. The floor was strewn with dirty straw.

Richard felt instinctively for the Sword of Truth, panicking when he found it gone. "Cara? Zedd?" he asked, for good measure. He expected no answer, and his fear at finding himself suddenly alone when, just moments ago, he had been kissing Kahlan made his voice louder than was perhaps wise.

"Richard." It was his grandfather's voice, and Richard looked wildly around—he strode forward to the bars, and peered through.

Zedd was pressing his own nose against the bars of the cell opposite Richard's. His grandfather looked tired and worn, and there was a Rada'Han around his neck, but otherwise he seemed unhurt.

"Zedd, what happened?" Richard demanded. "Where are Kahlan and Cara?"

Zedd shook his head somberly. "I don't know. We were at the Pillars of Creation, when suddenly Rahl appeared out of nowhere and blew dust into our faces. That's the last thing I remember before waking up here."

"What could Rahl want with us?" Richard frowned, terrified on Kahlan's behalf more than his own.

"Isn't it obvious?" a woman's voice drawled from the cell next to Richard's.

Richard whirled, staring through the wall as though he could see through it by sheer force of will. "Nicci?"

* * *

><p>Nicci hadn't been having the best day. She sat in the corner of her cell, hair and dress already bedraggled and dusty, and brooded.<p>

The Rada'Han around her neck was cool against her skin. Remembering the Keeper's wrath when Richard's pet Mord'Sith killed her—had it only been this morning?—Nicci was almost glad Darken Rahl had revived her. Looking into his cold eyes had been a relief, compared with the Keeper's.

That relief was likely to be short-lived. She couldn't imagine why Rahl had kept her alive this long. At any moment, she waited for him to come and finish it.

Richard and the Wizard, unconscious, had been brought in not long ago. She knew Richard was in the cell next to hers—she could almost feel his heart beating through the wall.

_Silly Nicci,_ she thought bitterly. _Not with this lump of metal around your neck._ The Keeper wouldn't be sending any spiders to get her out of this one.

She tried to ignore Richard—the one good thing that had happened all day was that he had saved the world; she had felt the moment the rift was sealed. It had echoed throughout the world, like chimes in a spring breeze, like ocean waves—like nothing else ever could.

She had no great fondness for the world—but while Richard lived, she would allow it existence.

"What could Rahl want with us?" Richard asked.

At this, Nicci couldn't keep silent. "Isn't it obvious?"

At his stunned, "Nicci?" she pulled her long, heavy hair over one shoulder and studied it morosely, thinking she should cut it all off.

"Yes?" she drawled in the direction of the wall. She caught a glimpse of the Wizard, across the dungeon hallway, staring at her. "And make it quick, we all have a great deal of appointments coming up."

"What do you mean?" the Wizard asked warily.

Nicci sighed. "I should think you could guess; my Han and your blood, Richard, are clearly on Darken Rahl's wish list."

"Richard's Han," the Wizard corrected her. Nicci scowled at him through the bars. Richard had given her his Han of his own free will, and those who insisted she had stolen it seemed not to realize how little Richard wanted his own rightful power.

"Where are we?" Richard asked. "The People's Palace?" He sounded doubtful—as he should. The People's Palace was leagues from the Pillars of Creation.

Nicci rolled her eyes, then thought, to be fair, where they were wasn't exactly close to the Pillars, either, and Richard had been unconscious the whole way…and why did she feel the need to be fair to him?

"The Palace of the Margrave of Rothenberg," she answered flatly.

"Your Rada'Han," protested the Wizard, his fingers touching his own. It was the same dull gray as the bars.

Nicci shrugged, knowing Richard couldn't see her. "The Margrave is dead."

"Of course," said the Wizard. "This place existed as a magic-less sanctuary only so long as the Margrave's line continued."

"But these are still the most well-built dungeons in the Midlands," Richard agreed.

Nicci hoped he wasn't giving up—if even Richard thought there was no hope left, they were all surely doomed.

"We have to find Kahlan and Cara," said Richard.

"I know this is hard…" the Wizard said slowly, "but Richard, we may have to accept that they are dead."

"No!" Richard snapped, sounding almost cross. "I won't accept that!" And he screamed her name, this time: "KAHLAN!"

Nicci sighed. It was going to be a long incarceration, until Darken Rahl remembered she was down here and killed her.


	2. Leech

**Leech**

At first, Richard was sure Rahl would appear at any moment, to throw his triumph in their faces.

But, as the hours passed, Richard had time to consider more than just the danger Kahlan and Cara must be in. Unless they had managed to escape—Richard prayed to the Creator that they were all right.

"Nicci," he said at length. "What did you mean about Rahl wanting my blood?"

"You're a Rahl, aren't you?" Nicci drawled. Richard wished he could see her—he found it strangely unsettling, hearing her through the wall—he kept flashing back to the moment he had recalled her from death, when the other Sisters of the Dark had sent a poisonous spider to kill her, and with her, Kahlan.

"So?" Richard said, confused.

"Richard," Nicci hissed. "Let me spell it out for you in words of one syllable. You are a Rahl. Thus you are the rightful ruler of D'Hara. Darken Rahl would like to return to the position he once held there. If he can discover how to transfer the infamous Rahl bond from you to him, he will succeed."

"And bring D'Hara once more under his tyrannical rule," Zedd agreed.

Richard had a sinking feeling. He didn't like where this was going. His brother no longer served the Keeper, but Richard had no doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to subjugate D'Hara, and all the Midlands, again if he could.

He had to stop that—but how? He didn't think refusing to let Rahl take his blood was going to work.

And most of all, he had to find Kahlan and Cara and escape this place.

Deep in thought, Richard was startled when Zedd said suddenly, "Why are you helping us, Nicci? After what you did to Kahlan—"

"Kahlan?" said Richard, confused. Was Zedd talking about the Maternity Spell? Was now really the time to be quibbling over the past? Could Nicci help them escape and rescue Kahlan and Cara? Would she?

"She Confessed Kahlan with her own power," Zedd explained. "That's why she killed you."

"She killed you?" Nicci asked, and maybe Richard imagined the worry in her voice. "I never ordered that."

"It's not important," Richard shrugged, despite knowing Nicci couldn't see him. "We have to focus on how we're going to get out of here."

Richard wasn't sure how to feel about Nicci at the moment. Why had she Confessed Kahlan? And could they have defeated the Keeper if she hadn't, since Kahlan might never have gone into the Con Dar and killed him and cried a new Stone of Tears? Richard was very aware that, without that precise concatenation of circumstances, the Keeper could well have gotten the Stone and the Land of the Living.

But these were questions for another time. They had to escape. But how?

* * *

><p>Richard and the Wizard were still brainstorming plans for escape when the Mord'Sith came for Nicci.<p>

At first, she had pointed out all the flaws in their plans—"We can't magic ourselves out, Wizard, unless you think you can convince one of the Mord'Sith to take off your Rada'Han; and digging your way out with a spoon will take years, Richard. Do you even have a spoon?"

Richard's mild reply: "You know, that pretty mouth can be pretty mean, Nicci. Have any better ideas?"

The Wizard had sent her a swift glance when Richard called her pretty. Nicci had kept her mask of false indifference.

"When Rahl has what he wants from us, he will send us to the Keeper," Nicci had asserted coolly. "Accept it."

She could almost hear Richard setting his jaw mulishly. "Never."

They opened the door of her cell, and two Mord'Sith came and dragged her roughly to her feet. Nicci was passive in their grasp, knowing she was no match for them at the moment.

They dragged her past Richard's cell, and she felt perversely glad that he looked unharmed, those soft dark eyes of his no longer bleeding, but watching her.

"Tell Rahl to let Kahlan and Cara go!" Richard said firmly, but the Mord'Sith took no notice.

They took Nicci to a spacious bath. She waited, outwardly calm, while they stripped her and threw her into the water (if her head had hit the bottom, she would have seen the Keeper that much sooner), and dipped their agiels into the water, making it bubble and churn.

Obviously Rahl didn't have lightning at his fingertips, the way she did, Nicci thought dispassionately, and then the pain consumed her.

When she revived enough to be aware of her surroundings, the Mord'Sith were chaining her to the wall, in a different room. She smelled burning herbs, and made an effort to see what was happening.

Darken Rahl waited impatiently while a long-haired sorceress ground leaves to powder at agiel-point.

At the sight of him, Nicci's anger rose. That he tortured her in absentia made the whole thing that much more insulting.

Now that agiels no longer burned her flesh, Nicci was aware of residual pain but had enough presence of mind to concentrate on what was happening.

Apparently, Rahl did not choose to end her life and steal her power swiftly, with a dacra. Or perhaps he didn't have any upon the premises.

The long-haired sorceress cut a strand of Nicci's hair and bound it together with one of Rahl's, murmured incantations, cut open Nicci's hand and squeezed her blood into the bowl of herbs…All the while, Rahl looked increasingly impatient.

Nicci took copious mental notes, determined to see how this ritual worked, so that she could defeat it.

She still expected Rahl to kill her, but she wasn't letting go of Richard's Han without a fight. He had entrusted to her, and her alone. He might not condone the uses she'd put it to, but he hadn't demanded it back yet.

Nicci vowed not to let Darken Rahl steal her power. Not to let him steal her one true connection with Richard.


	3. In the Dark

**In the Dark**

Richard paced his cell, growing more worried with every step. When would Nicci return? Other than Zedd, she was his only companion in this place. In this nightmare—Kahlan taken from him. Cara gone too.

Trapped in the best-built dungeons in the Midlands, with no way to fight Rahl, no Sword of Truth, and no food.

Richard ignored his hunger, channeling his feelings into a razor-sharp calm. Sooner or later, Rahl would have to face him.

"Where is she?" he demanded at last, frustrated.

"Kahlan? I wish I knew," sighed Zedd.

"No—I mean, yes—but Nicci," Richard said, not very clearly.

"You aren't seriously considering working with her, my boy?" Zedd protested. "After all she's done to you, and to Kahlan—"

"She can help us escape," Richard said firmly, uncertain why he was so determined to bring Nicci out of this place. He couldn't let Rahl get her Han, of course, but it wasn't that. Or it was—but it was more than that.

"Richard," Zedd said warningly, but Richard didn't want to listen. Zedd always thought he knew best—but they couldn't just leave Nicci here.

It was then that Nicci was marched once more past Richard's cell. When he saw her, he gasped in horror.

Nicci's skin was red and covered with angry marks and bruises. There was a nasty cut across her palm, her hair was damp and clung to her skin, and her eyes looked like twin pits of despair.

Still, she walked as proudly as a queen, as though the Mord'Sith were her attendants, not her jailors. Her calm was like ice, and it reminded Richard of Kahlan's Confessor face.

He was surprised at how relieved he felt that she was alive at all.

* * *

><p>They took the Wizard, when they threw Nicci back in her cell. She watched out of hooded eyes, listening to Richard's protesting, "Zedd!" and wishing she cared more.<p>

It was hard to feel sorry for the man who had killed you, Nicci found. She felt a similar lack of interest in the fate of Richard's pet Mord'Sith.

But Richard sounded as though his already broken heart were shattering into yet more pieces.

Nicci shut her eyes and tried not to hear it.

The guards shoved food through the bars, and Nicci ate hers, even though it tasted like cardboard and her lip was so swollen it hurt to chew.

Actually, just moving hurt, pulling at her parboiled skin.

"Nicci?" Richard asked eventually. He sounded unsure, even frightened. "Where do you think they're taking him?"

"To be tortured, what else?" Nicci said callously, before she thought. "Or maybe Rahl is going to steal his Han, too…have you ever heard of another way, besides a dacra? At first I thought he would just kill me, but now I think he wants it to be lingering…"

"Zedd," whispered Richard brokenly. Nicci reached out and touched the wall separating their cells, wishing she could touch Richard. Take away his pain.

_Don't be a fool, Nicci. He loves the Mother Confessor. Besides, at this rate you won't even live to see his face again._

More dark hours passed.

Nicci was in too much pain to sleep. "Richard?" she asked. "Do you ever think…that maybe all this is because of you? That you deserve this pain? Bad things don't happen to good people. Right?"

"Do I ever think I deserve to be punished?" said Richard. There was a long pause, and Nicci thought he wasn't going to answer.

She thought about the man who had raped her, how helpless she had felt. How broken. She had never spoken, even obliquely, of her secret fear—that she had deserved it, that the Creator had wanted to punish her.

Funny—she couldn't pretend she didn't deserve to be punished now.

At last, Richard whispered, "Yes."

They didn't speak again that night (or day, or morning—time was meaningless here). But Nicci fell asleep at last, to the sound of Richard's slow breath.


	4. The Dream

**The Dream**

The Mord'Sith came every day and took Nicci away for several hours. It was almost a rhythm, and Richard sought to understand the pattern.

So far, no one had come for him.

Most of the Mord'Sith ignored him, and most ignored Nicci, except for dragging her away and throwing her back into her cell. Nicci ignored them as well, with a sort of regal disdain that ought to have unnerved them.

But, as Richard had reason to know, little unnerved the Mord'Sith. Except talking about feelings, cooking meals, and chipmunks.

There was one Mord'Sith who looked uncertainly at Richard. Might she be wondering whether Rahl was really such a worthy master to serve? Might she be wondering whether it was right, or wise, to imprison the Seeker of Truth?

Most of Richard's nightmares featured what Rahl could be doing to Kahlan, but he did also imagine the chaos left by the Keeper's war with the living. Now that the rift was sealed, would all the banelings disappear? Would the people return to calm and peaceful lives, under the watchful eye of Dennee, Kahlan's sister?

Every night, Richard and Nicci talked. About anything. Richard didn't care, just as long as he was distracted from his nightmares. His longing for Kahlan was like an ache in his heart, constant and unrelenting.

But Nicci occupied his mind. Her sharp, cruel wit even amused him, though he would have been angry had she used it against his friends.

The strangest thing was one night, when he had at last fallen asleep to the sound of Nicci dissecting the plans of her erstwhile Sisters; her disapproval of Sister Marianna's feeble and unorganized plots was plain.

Richard smiled as he closed his eyes.

And he dreamed…he was back in the cave with Nicci, trying to wake her from a death she would share with Kahlan. He rubbed the petals of the flower against her throat and lips, but those sharp eyes didn't open. "Please," he murmured, begging her to wake.

He kissed her forehead, her throat, her cheeks—her lips. All the while, he was crying for Kahlan—but when suddenly Nicci's lips moved against his, he didn't pull away.

And this time, there were no Sisters of the Dark to interrupt them. Instead, the kiss deepened…

Nicci was sweet as forbidden fruit, impossible, poisonous—irresistible.

Then Kahlan was there, at the mouth of the cave. "Richard?" she asked, as though an arrow pierced her heart—and he was the one who had shot her.

He pulled away from Nicci, horrified—"Kahlan!"

"No," said Kahlan. "Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds."

Richard stared at her. What did she mean? Didn't she know he loved only her?

"Do you trust me?" asked Nicci, and now she was wearing her torn black dress instead of her orange robes, and her skin was red and burned.

She sat up and smiled, more softly than she ever had in life.

Richard looked at her for what seemed an eternity. Then he looked back to Kahlan.

There was a soft sound, and Richard whirled—Nicci had collapsed, dead once again, skin perfect, pale and cold.

Richard screamed—and woke up.

* * *

><p>Nicci heard Richard scream Kahlan's name in his sleep. She sighed, and curled into a tighter ball. Her hair shielded her from the outside world.<p>

Safe in her cocoon of hair and torn dress, facing the wall…Now she could think.

Richard loved the Mother Confessor. And Nicci loved Richard. She knew it now.

She had always thought she would never love again. After that horrible man had violated her—that first kill had surely not been for the Keeper—her heart had held only hate.

Until Richard. He had breathed life back into her as surely—more surely, more completely—as Darken Rahl's Mord'Sith had.

Part of her hated him for that.

Most Sisters of the Dark talked a big story about how much they longed to meet the Keeper—but that was all it was. Just talk.

Nicci hadn't needed to meet the Keeper. She carried the Underworld with her, like a flicker of green fire around her soul.

Her death would have been meaningless—already, she was cold as any corpse, her only purpose the Keeper's will.

Until Richard had woken her, pulled her soul back into the Land of the Living by sheer force of will—or by accidental, idle side effect?

How could she know?

He probably only spoke to her at all out of pity, or maybe out of a need for companionship.

No doubt he was lost without the Mother Confessor.

_Careful, Nicci. You'll cut yourself on those sharp edges._

What she needed was a plan. Nicci knew that without Richard, she would descend back into that darkness, dead-while-walking.

Always assuming Rahl didn't kill her first. She really couldn't understand why it was taking him so long.

But if she _could_ escape—

Nicci's fingers curled together, imagining the power only her Rada'Han kept from her fingertips. Lightning, flame…the white fire of Confession, her newest talent, borrowed from the Mother Confessor.

She had only taken a tiny fraction of it—just the twist that turned raw power into Confession. But she hadn't given it back.

Richard didn't love her. But someday, he _would_.

Now that she had decided, Nicci began making serious plans for their escape. There was one Mord'Sith—young, innocent…controllable.

Nicci smiled sharply in the dark.


	5. Con Dar

**Con Dar**

"My dear brother," Darken Rahl drawled the morning after Richard's dream.

There were no windows in the dungeon, of course; But the Mord'Sith came with food, or to take Nicci, at exactly the same times every day.

Rahl and his procession stopped in front of Richard's cell. Besides his attendant Mord'Sith, Cara stood at his right hand, her head tilted to one side and her eyes unreadable. And on Rahl's arm, resplendent in a dark red gown the color, Richard thought bitterly, of blood, stood Kahlan.

Richard's eyes devoured her—she had on her Confessor face, impossible to read, but Richard noticed she was paler than usual, there was no Rada'Han around her neck, and her hand on Rahl's arm didn't shake.

"You have no idea the pleasure it gives me," Rahl purred, "to inform you that Kahlan has consented to be my wife."

Richard didn't even look at Rahl; he stared into Kahlan's eyes, willing her to give him a sign this was some sort of trick. Or what if Rahl had tortured her into it? Broken her as once he had broken Cara?

And what about Cara? Hadn't she always told him he was her Lord Rahl? More than that, what of their friendship? Richard felt lost.

"Aren't you going to congratulate us?" Rahl was saying. "Soon, with your blood and Kahlan at my side, I will regain the throne of D'Hara and bring peace to the world."

"Kahlan…" Richard protested, almost against his will. He didn't want to give his brother more ammunition, but the picture he painted was horrific.

"It's true, Richard," Kahlan said expressionlessly. "I don't expect you to understand."

"Of course, I knew you would succeed in closing the rift," Rahl said. "The only question was how that could benefit me—and, of course, the D'Haran empire. Mris'with cloaks are rare—I doubt you've ever heard of them; I and my Mord'Sith waited at the Pillars of Creation, with Nicci," he nodded almost cordially in the direction of her cell, and Richard imagined Nicci's cool, dispassionate stare. For some reason, it gave him courage.

"Until just the right moment," Rahl gloated. "You never even saw the Sleeping Dust." This was true enough; Richard remembered the disorientation, the sense that no time had passed, until he woke and called for Kahlan, Cara, and Zedd…

Zedd! "What have you done with Zedd?" Richard demanded.

Rahl brushed imaginary dust from the front of his floor-length vest. "That need not concern you, brother," he said coolly. "Soon the Keeper will take his vengeance upon you—when I have what I need." Turning to Kahlan, he bent and brushed a kiss on the corner of her lips. "Come, my love."

Richard watched them go, heart sinking but thoughts whirling.

* * *

><p>Nicci felt her heart beat faster as Rahl spoke of sending Richard to the Underworld. Pain slashed through her veins, harsher even than an agiel, yet somehow comforting. The blood pounded in her head, and she thought surely her eyes were burning.<p>

But the Rada'Han yanked back the lightning from her fingertips and the sweet agony of a rage fiercer than any she had ever felt—even when she served the Keeper, and sought to see the Land of the Living reduced to nothing but ash.

Nicci watched Rahl depart, the Mother Confessor on his arm, trailed by Richard's pet Mord'Sith (no longer?), and there was murder in her heart.

"Okay," said Richard determinedly. Nicci heard him pacing back and forth. "Rahl has done something to Kahlan—some sort of powerful magic, most likely. And Cara. So we have to undo it."

He spoke as if he believed it were as simple as that—but, Nicci had to admit, it mostly was, if only they could get to the Mother Confessor, if only the Rada'Han weren't around her neck—

But just because the Mother Confessor was under the influence of powerful magic didn't mean Nicci was especially motivated to rescue her. Left to her own devices, Nicci would just as soon leave the dangerous Mother Confessor to Darken Rahl's dark schemes to conquer the world.

Nicci didn't want the world. It was corrupt and rotten, like a tempting persimmon with worms at its center. Let Darken Rahl have it, if he so desired. If he could keep it.

But Nicci wanted Richard. She knew someday she would have to fight the Mother Confessor for him. Why should she hasten the conflict?

Richard was going on, full of nervous energy. "You'll be able to tell what he's done to her and undo the magic," he said; his dependence upon her touched Nicci.

Brushing at her eyes to rid herself of unaccountable tears, Nicci said firmly, "That depends upon how much of my power Rahl has already stolen. While I am bound by this lump of metal," and she tapped her fingernails against her Rada'Han so it rang continuously, "I can't be sure."

"Then we'll have to find the key," said Richard.

They spent hours discussing their plan for escape. The sight of the Mother Confessor seemed to have instilled in Richard an almost feverish urgency. Nicci thought of how much he must care for the Mother Confessor, to be so desperate to save her.

Bitterness threatened to overwhelm her, but Nicci thrust it aside. There would be time for that later.

She fell asleep at last, repeating the plan under her breath and wishing she could protect Richard. But he would never let her sacrifice herself for him, even if it meant he was reunited with the Mother Confessor.

She couldn't help but love him for it.


	6. The Vampire

**The Vampire**

Richard was alert, every sense straining his awareness. He slumped on the bench in his cell in an attitude of deceptive idleness. His conflicted thoughts and feelings were shoved to the back of his mind.

He hadn't known that he could achieve this level of concentration without the Sword of Truth.

He was hunting.

This time, though, four Mord'Sith came instead of Nicci's usual two. Richard felt his pulse race; so many! Did this mean Rahl was almost finished taking Nicci's Han? He would kill her!

Four was too many—but it would have to be now. Richard set his jaw.

But the Mord'Sith stopped before his cell, instead of Nicci's. Richard was surprised, though he thought he shouldn't have been—hadn't Rahl mentioned his blood yesterday?

Richard released his held breath; Nicci was safe, at least for the moment. He would wait until he stood before his evil brother.

But supposing Nicci tried the plan in his absence? Richard knew she would let them kill her before she backed down, once she had started. He didn't like to think of her, lying like a broken doll in her cell, forgotten. Like all those with sorcerous power, Nicci was almost helpless when bound by a Rada'Han.

(This was one reason Richard hadn't wanted his Han—he was afraid he would become dependent upon his powers instead of his wits, and the Sword of Truth.)

Richard gave Nicci a significant, warning look as the Mord'Sith dragged him away. Her stare was as impassive as always, and Richard thought again of how beautiful she had looked in death, in his dream.

Fear for her chased him through the corridors, until he was taken to a large room—some sort of magical laboratory—where Rahl waited. Anger boiled Richard's blood.

"You," he spat. "What have you done to my friends?"

"Richard, Richard," sighed Rahl as the Mord'Sith chained Richard to the wall. "They're not your friends—not anymore."

Richard longed to wipe that smirk off Rahl's face.

Out of the shadows, a woman stepped forward, prodded by a Mord'Sith. Long hair no longer smooth, Shota stared at Richard.

Richard stared back, instantly realizing Rahl must have managed to capture Shota as well—and that she was the witch Rahl was using to steal Nicci's Han.

Though, logically, Richard couldn't think why he didn't just use a dacra like anyone else.

"Shota," he protested, "you don't have to do this."

But she was empty-eyed, and though she looked horrified at the prospect of harming Richard, Shota nonetheless took his blood, murmuring strange words over it.

Rahl watched avidly, and said, conversationally, "The Rahl Bond only attaches itself to those already possessed of powerful magic. But I have enough of Nicci's Han now to attempt this ritual. Of course, if it fails, we'll simply have to try again…bleeding you will be a pleasure, dear brother."

Richard felt faint, but he had enough strength to demand, "What have you done to Nicci?" Until he spoke, he was sure the name out of his mouth would be Kahlan's.

"Ah, yes, her Han is your Han, I keep forgetting," drawled Rahl. "And how fitting, that your Han—or at least a good fraction of it—is now bound irrevocably to me. Quite an ingenious ritual, if I do say so myself—it may be slower than a dacra, but I will have all her Han in the end—and even a dacra won't be able to take it from me. Every since you killed me, I've wanted something a little more…permanent, than blood."

Richard wondered if Rahl planned to kill Nicci when he had what he wanted from her, and asked himself, furiously, why he wasn't more worried about Kahlan. Yet somehow, his senses told him Rahl meant less harm to Kahlan than he did to Nicci, to Richard, and to the world.

Richard's eyes drooped from loss of blood and exhaustion, when Shota at last handed a cup full of Richard's blood and other strange magical substances—Richard didn't want to imagine them—to Darken Rahl.

Smirking, Rahl toasted Richard, threw his head back and drank the concoction. Richard watched in helpless, disgusted horror.

Rahl didn't even have the decency to make a face. Richard supposed vaguely that he must be used to drinking blood, and was then horrified anew.

He glared at Rahl.

"Well," said Rahl, "Time to test it—oh, take him back to the dungeon," he added to one of the Mord'Sith. "He'll be nice company for Nicci."

"Yes, my Lord," said the Mord'Sith. She beckoned to her Sisters, who almost had to support Richard the entire way. He was feeling faint—when they reached his cell, all he could do was assure himself that Nicci was alive, and then fall into a deeper sleep than he could have imagined possible, trapped by his villainous brother.

When he woke, it was with a splitting headache and a ravenous appetite. Richard ate the food he hadn't earlier in the day, and sank back down on the bench. "Nicci?" he asked.

"They should come soon, with the evening rations," she informed him matter-of-factly.

Richard nodded, remembered she couldn't see him, clutched his head in his hands in fresh pain, and growled, "Shota…"

"Mmm?" said Nicci.

"The witch Rahl is forcing to help him," Richard explained. "After all that vague prophecy talk about how _I _was against the Creator…"

Nicci was silent, and, too late, Richard realized the Creator might be a touchy subject for her.

On the other hand, if she were still working for the Keeper—but no. Richard was sure he would know. Nicci knew better than that, now, anyway.

Didn't she?

He was horrified at his lack of horror that he didn't even know whose side Nicci was on—and a little surprised that the question hadn't occurred to him before.

But the Mord'Sith were here—"What's the matter?" Richard drawled, as the two of them came closer. "Are you so frightened of the Seeker that you can't even look me in the eyes?"

"Insolence!" the Mord'Sith with sharper features hissed.

"No, leave it be, Lord Rahl said—" the sweeter one protested, but the sharper Mord'Sith shook her hand off her arm.

"Not this time."

Richard watched her unlock the door of his cell, and waited. Her more hesitant friend made a disapproving 'tchah' noise, and walked away. Richard, rejoicing at this bit of luck, waited until the sound of her boots had faded, taking several burning jabs from the agiel.

Screaming in pain took little effort—in fact, Richard thought wryly, no effort at all—but as the Mord'Sith raised her agiel to strike again, he grabbed her wrist and twisted the agiel out of her fingers.

Ignoring the pain, and taking advantage of the Mord'Sith's moment of stunned shock, Richard hit her on the temple with the hilt of her own agiel, and she crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Richard held on to her agiel, grimly calculating that he might need it, and strode out of the cell—it had been foolish of her not to even close the door.

He hurried to Nicci's cell, next to his, anxiously checking to see if she was alright—"The key!" Nicci hissed at him. "Before the other one comes back!"

Right, of course. Richard unearthed a key chain from the Mord'Sith's pocket, shut the cell door on her, and released Nicci.

She stepped into the hall, but gave him such a pointed look that Richard knew immediately what she wanted; he unlocked her Rada'Han, relieved the Mord'Sith had actually been carrying the key, and shoved the bunch of keys into his pocket, for when they went to free Kahlan, Cara, and Zedd.

That was when Richard felt Nicci's small, cool fingers curling around his neck, and looked up just in time to see her eyes swirl to black.


	7. Confession

**Confession**

Nicci didn't know why she'd waited.

She could have tricked the Mord'Sith into letting her go—she would have chosen the comparatively innocent one, not the one with the sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes—it wasn't as though she were completely helpless.

And she knew, looking into the innocent Mord'Sith's eyes, that she, Nicci, had killed far more people than her young jailor.

Not that it was a competition—and, if it were, surely she was the loser.

Instead, Nicci worried over her feelings and her plan like a child with a sore tooth. She couldn't think of anything else but Richard.

And she remembered a song the Prelate used to sing to her, when she was just a girl in a tiny, mediocre village, with a large, mediocre family, who hardly even knew who the Creator was.

_'Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud…"_

Nicci twirled a lock of dirty hair around her fingers as she thought, trying to let the song fade from her mind.

But it wouldn't leave her, not when they brought Richard back, looking half-dead, and she heard his breathing slow into sleep, and thought she could listen to him forever…

Not when the Mord'Sith came with the evening rations and Richard tried the plan and Nicci heard the whine of agiels and feared for him, and blood pounded in her head and her eyes burned—

But he walked out, cool as anything, and just stood there, looking so exhausted and triumphant—

And Nicci thought, _this is it, this is when he'll leave me and go find the Mother Confessor, and at least when Darken Rahl kills me I'll know he lives, but how dare he forget me already—_

And he peered anxiously at her, and she was so relieved he wasn't going to abandon her down here that her voice had a definite edge when she reminded him, "the key, before the other one comes back!"

And Richard let her out of the cell, and then out of the Rada'Han, and Nicci felt the power swirling through her, lighting her senses on fire, and it was still strong, maybe even as strong as before, even though after what Darken Rahl had done to her that was impossible—

_Love is kind…_

But Nicci thought of Richard, standing before her at last, and the Mother Confessor, his only love, as she had heard often enough—

And she thought, _sometimes, love is cruel._

She reached out deliberately and grasped Richard's throat. She could feel his pulse beating erratically, no doubt from the fight, and she could feel the sharp pain of the agiel he still held, humming upward through his skin into hers.

Nicci thought of how beautiful he was, and then she relaxed all her defenses.

She felt her eyes fade to black, the swirling power of Confession, its white fire burning through her veins and out her fingertips—

Richard's eyes started to darken, but only at the edges, and then the power was momentarily spent, and Richard was staring at her—

And he wasn't falling to his knees and swearing to serve her.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong with _her_.

_And this is news?_ some buried part of her demanded sardonically.

Nicci swayed, feeling faint.

* * *

><p>Richard caught Nicci's upper arm in an almost bruising grip, sensing she was about to fall. He shoved his borrowed agiel in a pocket and grabbed her other arm.<p>

"I tried to Confess you," Nicci said softly, frowning.

Richard was frowning, too. "It didn't work," he stated positively. He had felt the power wash over him and retreat, almost like when Kahlan—

But that had been because—

"How is that possible?" Nicci demanded, staring down at her hands as though worried she was broken.

Richard was remembering what Zedd had said at the Pillars of Creation. "I think I know," he said grimly.

When he asked himself the question—did he love Nicci?—some deep, buried part of his soul seemed to send him a resounding affirmative.

No matter how hard he tried to deny it, Nicci had stolen her way into his heart.

Knowing the truth made Richard feel better, even though the thought of his betrayal of Kahlan made him cringe.

He looked into Nicci's eyes, and, maybe because he had accepted his own feelings, he read the truth of hers.

She was no longer impassive, no longer unknowable—

Richard felt dizzy, drowning in her eyes. And he knew exactly why she had tried to Confess him, knew precisely the sort of wrenching conflict waged in her heart—the pain of finally realizing what she had done, in her long years of service to the Keeper—the lives she had ended, or ruined, the devastation she had wrought—her anger, that he had made her feel guilty—her incandescent fury and fierce joy that he had triumphed over the Keeper, and that he was alive.

Holding Nicci, Richard thought he had never truly understood what he was fighting for until now.

Her redemption meant everything. She was not poison—she was light.

Richard drew her closer, wanting to crush her lips against his—

And then there was the faint sound of the Mord'Sith stirring in his abandoned cell, and Richard came to his senses.

He didn't let go of Nicci's arm, just pulled her down the hallway with him and drew his agiel, wishing for the Sword of Truth.

"We have to go," he told her. "Now."

Was it possible to love two people at the same time? What was Richard going to do?

But he had no time to think of that. Rahl would be on their heels soon enough.

And Richard had a Confessor to save.


	8. Zedd

**Zedd**

Nicci was in a whirlwind. She let Richard pull her down several deserted corridors before she dug in her heels and said severely, "This is ridiculous. We don't need to traipse through the entire palace. I can find your friends from here."

Now why had she said that? What if she were only imagining the look in Richard's eyes after she tried to Confess him?

Did her failure to do so mean she didn't still have the Mother Confessor's power after all? Her fingernails dug into her palms in frustration at the thought. She could have sworn—

Or—but what was the other possibility? Only Darken Rahl's soul was immune to Confession, and she only knew that because it was a bragging point among D'Harans.

Nicci was hopelessly confused.

At the same time, she'd never felt so secure in her life. She trusted Richard.

She trusted _Richard_, who was a Hero with a Quest, who was in love with the Mother Confessor, and who ought to hate her.

She truly was a fool.

Richard stopped, looked down at her, and said calmly, "Zedd first."

Nicci started to nod, calling up an image of the Wizard in her mind—but then she thought, did she really have to do this? Find Richard's friends? They might both be recaptured—but if she left now, Richard wouldn't come with her.

She couldn't bear the thought of harm coming to him, and wished she could've Confessed him—he would have been safe if only he did as she told him.

Frustrated, it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing: Richard was leaning against the wall, his hand smeared with blood.

Nicci gasped. "You're hurt," she said, and concentrated. Healing light poured from her hands as she gently touched first his hand and then his side, where the skin was tender and bruised.

"Thank you," Richard said, looking at her gravely.

Nicci read his answering trust in _her_—no one, knowing her whole past, all her choices, had ever trusted her before—and it shamed her into acting.

This time, she closed her eyes as she thought of the Wizard—that first battle, when he'd killed her, the moment she'd seen him dressed as a grand lady in this very palace, the preoccupied glimpse she'd had of him when she told Richard of the Maternity Spell, the sense of him close at her heels when she had tried to save Richard from the destruction of the world, his sharp comments and reasoned explanations when he'd still been in the cell opposite hers…

When she opened her eyes, she knew.

Nicci led the way down the corridors, letting lightning gather in her palms in case they met anyone, knowing Richard followed.

She didn't need to look—she could feel him, almost as though _he_ were the one who had Confessed_ her_.

She had a wry smile for that—surely, Richard had stolen her soul.

* * *

><p>Richard followed Nicci, alert, holding his borrowed agiel and wishing for the Sword of Truth. But finding Zedd was more important. For one thing, Zedd might know something about where Kahlan and Cara were and what Rahl had done to them. For another, except for whatever magic made them Rahl's slaves, Kahlan and Cara had appeared unharmed. Richard couldn't imagine Rahl would exhibit a similar restraint toward Zedd.<p>

And the Sword—well, it wasn't a living person. And Richard knew from experience that Zedd (and probably Nicci) could summon it away at will.

Richard kept expecting Rahl to waft out of some side door somewhere, robes furling, but so far, the place seemed strangely deserted.

Or was it strange? Even Rahl would have a hard time finding many Mord'Sith and D'Haran soldiers left to serve him, after the upheaval of the Keeper's war against the living.

Although that might change if the spell had worked, and Rahl blood once more beat through his veins. Richard scowled, thinking he had never asked to be a Rahl himself, and still more than half convinced there'd been some kind of mistake.

He didn't belong here.

He certainly didn't belong in the Margrave of Rothenberg's palace. He hadn't liked the man even when he was alive, and why was Richard letting his mind wander like this?

At last, Nicci stopped before an ominously solid-looking door. Richard reflected that she easily could have betrayed him, have made or hoping to make some sort of deal with Rahl in exchange for Richard—that this could be a trap.

But he knew it wasn't. Nicci wouldn't betray him—he was certain of it. If any of this was a trap, it was not of her making.

Nicci made a small gesture, and the lock opened with an audible click; Richard pushed the door open, and gasped.

Even in the dim light, Richard could see Zedd was badly injured. He was curled up in a ball in the corner, mumbling to himself. Richard thought he heard the word, 'Clara.'

"Zedd?" he tried. Zedd took no notice.

Richard felt tears pricking at his eyes. He knew the danger they were in, had known Rahl would torture Zedd—but it was different, somehow, seeing it.

Seeing Zedd, his grandfather and mentor, weak and hurt and possibly delusional…

Richard had never felt so alone in his life.


	9. The Sword of Truth

**The Sword of Truth**

The Wizard was hurt. Nicci's first impulse was that it served him right, but one look at Richard's face had her on her knees, feeling the Wizard's pulse and trying to find the most serious points of pain and damage.

She worked quickly, knowing someone would find that Mord'Sith in Richard's cell and know to look for them—and, if that someone knew Richard, where to look for them as well.

Besides, Richard would want to free the Mother Confessor and his pet Mord'Sith, and that would take time—

Nicci refused to think of the inevitable moment when all she and Richard shared would be gone, vanished in the triumph of Richard's meeting with the Mother Confessor, the Love of his Life—

This still made her want to roll her eyes, despite how she felt about Richard herself, because it was just ridiculous. Richard and the Mother Confessor were just too perfect.

Nicci ignored the voice in her head that said, if only she were more like the Mother Confessor, everyone (Richard) would love her. Would love her _best._

"That's the most I can do," she said at last. "The bruises will take time, and aum leaf salve. He needs food and rest." She didn't mention the possible mental and psychic effects of the Mord'Sith's particular brand of torture. Richard must already know, and it would do no good to dwell on the subject.

Besides, the Wizard was still very weak—Nicci didn't doubt that, by the time he was fully recovered, the success or failure of his 'training' would be apparent.

"Right," Richard agreed. He helped lift the Wizard to his feet, and the two of them staggered to the door, the Wizard nearly unconscious between them.

Nicci was just reviewing her mental list of spells to find one for lessening a weight, when there was a shout, and three Mord'Sith came running toward them.

Nicci gathered power in her hands, determined they wouldn't capture her again.

This had always been inevitable—Nicci hoped Richard wouldn't do anything stupid. She hoped he would be all right.

* * *

><p>Richard saw the Mord'Sith approach, and ducked out from under Zedd's lolling arm, leaning his grandfather against the wall and hoping Nicci would keep him from falling to the floor.<p>

Then there was no time—Richard swept his borrowed agiel through the air, wishing for the Sword of Truth—there was a clatter as a loose stone worked its way free of the ceiling and fell on the head of one of the Mord'Sith—as she collapsed to the floor, Richard caught sight of Nicci glaring at him, and looked quickly for Zedd—

Was it such a crime that he wanted to see Nicci safe? he thought, as he parried the blow of one Mord'Sith, grabbed her braid, yanking her backward, and applied the agiel to her temple—everyone knew those with a great deal of magical power were useless against Mord'Sith—they so rarely had knowledge of any other weapon—

The last Mord'Sith had a good grip on Nicci's arm, and her agiel held to Nicci's shoulder—Richard yanked her back, and then had to duck as the loose stone bounced impossibly high off the floor and hit the Mord'Sith's chest—

Nicci massaged her shoulder, as she and Richard went to pick up Zedd again, stepping daintily over the bodies—

"Are you all right?" Richard asked, reaching out and gently brushing her long hair from the afflicted shoulder.

"It's not my first time," she said wryly. "That's done it—they know we're here."

Richard nodded gravely. Whatever grace period they had formerly possessed was over. And Rahl would be looking for them.

He knew what he needed—

And so did Nicci; leaning against the stone wall, she held out her hands and cried out a string of unrecognizable ancient spell-language, that everyone who practiced magic seemed to know.

Richard waited, hoping this wouldn't take long because Zedd was in bad shape and needed rest, and they all needed to get out of here, and that fight, not to mention Nicci's magic words, were probably alerting everyone in the entire palace to their presence—

And then the Sword of Truth appeared in Nicci's outstretched hands, shimmering with magic, and most of all, familiar and reassuring to Richard. He even grinned as Nicci gave it to him—now, at last, he didn't feel so hopelessly underdressed.

Although if he knew Rahl, the Sword had been where Richard's brother could always keep an eye on it, which meant they had seconds before Rahl appeared—

And they had places to be. "Can you find—" he started to ask Nicci, when suddenly, another Mord'Sith appeared at the end of the hall, walking rapidly toward them; Nicci raised a hand toward her convenient loose stone again, but Richard saw that shorn hair and confident stride and found his voice: "Cara?"


	10. The Mother Confessor

**The Mother Confessor**

Richard's pet Mord'Sith. Nicci kept her magic coiled around the loose stone, reasoning that there had to be some _reason_ that Richard's pet Mord'Sith was still walking around, apparently making herself free of the Palace, when Richard and Nicci and the Wizard had been locked away and tortured.

Although, of course, the Mord'Sith seemed to enjoy torture…

"Cara!" Richard exclaimed, and stepped forward; Nicci thought he was going to embrace his pet Mord'Sith, but he stepped back at the last moment. "Are you all right? Where's Kahlan? What happened?" Richard said quickly.

"You have to go," Richard's pet Mord'Sith said grimly. "Now. Take the Wizard."

This sounded like a good plan to Nicci, but of course Richard wouldn't be so easily separated from the Mother Confessor. "What do you mean? Cara, where's _Kahlan_?"

"We have seconds," Richard's pet Mord'Sith said calmly. But she looked at Richard, and must've sensed his overwhelming sincerity and determination, because she turned around abruptly, striding forward.

Richard hurried back to Nicci and they supported the Wizard together, following as fast as possible.

A flight of stairs, distant shouting, another door…Good thing, Nicci thought, that Rahl apparently had never learned to find people by his thoughts alone…

And then Richard's pet Mord'Sith led them into a pretty room with tall windows and golden curtains, and the Mother Confessor standing in the center, her gown a rich red the color of blood, her fingers and wrists sparkling with gold.

_How easily is the Mother Confessor bought,_ thought Nicci, and instantly reproached herself; she knew the Mother Confessor. She knew the Mother Confessor _well_. And the idea that anything but powerful magic could keep her from Richard was ludicrous.

"Richard!" said the Mother Confessor.

"Kahlan!" said Richard.

Nicci, still supporting the Wizard, started to feel very out of place.

But Richard said next, "Nicci, quick! Rahl will be here any second! We have to get out of here!"

That, Nicci could support. She couldn't leave without Richard. Richard wouldn't leave without the Mother Confessor. And she wouldn't stay here and let Rahl steal the rest of her Han—not if she died for it.

She slipped out from under the Wizard's inert arm, and grasped the Mother Confessor's wrist. At the same moment, the Mother Confessor cried, "You!" and her other hand was around Nicci's throat before Nicci could move.

_And now for an experiment in applied magical transference_, Nicci thought dispassionately. How happy the Mother Confessor would be to have Nicci her willing slave—Nicci thought the first thing she would do was make Nicci give Richard back his Han, even though he didn't want it.

Why was she the only one to understand that?

"Kahlan, no!" Richard cried, and Nicci's pulse leapt.

But she bent her attention to the task at hand, pulling the outward manifestation of magic from the Mother Confessor's flesh. She clutched at it, willing it to appear before her so they could get out of here, so that the Mother Confessor would be distracted, so that Richard would be happy—

The Mother Confessor's veins hummed with magic. Like white fire, it burned through her, a mirror to Nicci's own blood.

But—that was all.

"Nothing," Nicci said wonderingly, frustrated, astonished, confused...relieved, because she was right, the Mother Confessor wasn't perfect; devastated, for Richard, whose blind faith was her salvation.

_Nothing_. How?

* * *

><p>Richard saw Kahlan, and it all came rushing back. The first time he'd seen her, being chased by a D'Haran quad; the night they'd kissed and she'd told him they could never be, and he hadn't believed her; that alternate future, where he and Cara had learned of Kahlan's sacrifices for Richard; a hundred nights spent sitting in front of the fire, joking about Zedd's appetite or Cara's state of deprivation after not killing anything for too long; thinking he would lose her, stuck in the Palace of the Prophets; the inexplicable, wonderful feeling of victory, knowing the Rift was sealed, Kahlan in his arms…<p>

For all Richard had once believed he loved Anna, he knew Kahlan was his first real love. She was…_Kahlan_.

And she was standing there, in Rahl red and gold, Cara going immediately to her side—"Richard!" she said.

"Kahlan!" he cried, and almost embraced her, before he remembered two things: firstly, he was still supporting the mostly unconscious Zedd, and secondly, Kahlan was under the influence of some powerful magic.

Furthermore, Rahl was surely close. Richard knew his brother would have sensed the loss of the Sword of Truth. "Nicci, quick!" he said. "Rahl will be here any second! We have to get out of here!"

Nicci. Kahlan's polar opposite, surely. Where Kahlan was goodness and light and order, Nicci was darkness and fear and anger and danger…and yet—

Nicci's rage against the world, her wickedness, her poison—masked a heart of gold. She could've just left. She'd made the choice to help Zedd, even to find Kahlan.

Richard had known, when she'd done the Maternity Spell and told him her story, that she was really looking for someone to trust. But all the time, she didn't trust herself. Her faith was poisoned and embittered, but there still.

She was a fascinating paradox of good and evil, self-interest and selflessness.

And he could no longer deny to himself what her failed Confession of him meant. Hadn't Zedd told him that only love was strong enough to stop Confession? Because there was nothing more for it to do, perhaps.

Richard loved Nicci.

Richard loved Kahlan.

_Was_ it possible to love two people at the same time?

And why was all this occurring to him now, when he had to get them all out of here before Rahl arrived?

As Nicci grabbed Kahlan's wrist, Kahlan's fingers closed around her throat. Richard was horrified—Nicci was a Confessor now, true, but she hadn't been born one, and might not be immune—"Kahlan, no!" he cried. Kahlan couldn't Confess her—Richard _needed_ Nicci.

Kahlan and Cara both gave him shocked looks. Cara's said, _have you lost your mind?_

Richard didn't know what Kahlan's said. He was afraid to.

And then Nicci said, in a voice completely free of lies or contrivance, "Nothing."

Nothing—no powerful magic, keeping Kahlan in the thrall of Rahl? Richard didn't understand.

Kahlan wouldn't choose to cooperate with Rahl of her own free will—it went against everything she believed in!

Didn't it?


	11. Escapes

**Escapes**

"Get out of here, Richard," Kahlan said harshly. Richard froze.

Nicci hadn't found any powerful magic keeping Kahlan Rahl's slave, so why wasn't she helping them escape? Richard heard footsteps—

He wasn't afraid to confront his brother, but had the intuition to know that, in the midst of this personal crisis, on ground not of his own choosing, he would be at a definite disadvantage.

And he had to get out of here and find out what terrible new disaster had occurred while he'd been trapped in Rahl's dungeon. After killing Rahl the first time had led to a Rift in the Veil to the Underworld, who knew what effect sealing said Rift would have? Supposing the banelings went on hysterical rampages, killing whole villages?

Richard had to get out there.

"Richard, it's over," Kahlan said. "We can never be. And not because of my Confessor powers—Darken Rahl has everything you will never have: control. Power. Common _sense_."

"Kahlan…" Richard protested, voice almost breaking. How could she say these things?

"He can give me what I need. Did you think I wanted to be a meek little housewife, raising your children while you ran off and saved other people's kittens from trees?" Kahlan laughed cruelly. "Never. Now get out of my sight."

"Kahlan…" Richard said again, stepping forward before he remembered he was supporting Zedd, leaning drunkenly against him. "You don't know what you're saying. You love me."

"The Mother Confessor instructed you to leave," Cara told him, advancing a step. "I suggest you comply with her wishes."

Richard stared at Cara. Had she forgotten their friendship so quickly?

"And take your _sorceress _with you," Cara said, making the word an insult.

Richard breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Nicci, only a step away from him now, watching Kahlan with coiled wariness. Kahlan hadn't Confessed her.

"You have to protect Kahlan," Richard told Cara. He wished he could tell Kahlan what he had when she'd killed him—that he knew this wasn't her.

The truth was, he didn't.

"Soon, Lord Rahl—the _true _Lord Rahl—will arrive," said Kahlan coolly. "And you will serve his purpose."

Richard was about to shout, "Never!" defiantly, when he felt Nicci's small, cool fingers slide into his.

"Do you trust me?" she whispered. Her face was white, and Richard knew she'd heard the footsteps.

_Never_, he thought, looking down into those wide eyes. _Always_. But he squeezed her fingers, made sure to keep a good grip on Zedd, and closed his eyes.

And he let Nicci take him into the darkness.

* * *

><p>"Oh," gasped Kahlan, as Richard, Zedd, and Nicci disappeared. Cara was at her side at once, supporting the Mother Confessor under the elbow.<p>

She bit back words of caution, knowing Rahl was steps away.

And indeed, there he was, sweeping in, followed by Mistress Rosamund, who was dragging Shota.

"Where is he?" Rahl growled. "Where is my pestilential brother?"

"Gone, my Lord," Cara said deferentially. But not too deferentially; then he was sure to suspect.

"He is a fool," Kahlan asserted, with a valiant effort to make her lip curl in true Rahl fashion.

"I cannot agree more," sighed Rahl. "But he is a fool who's made off with my Sword, my all-powerful sorceress, and my legacy." He turned to Rosamund. "Organize search parties."

She nodded and left, and Rahl pulled Kahlan to him, kissing her possessively. "So you have seen the error of your love for my little brother?" he asked sharply.

"Love?" Kahlan laughed. "Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds. He never loved me. And I am meant for more than the Seeker's bride."

"I couldn't agree more," Rahl purred. He left then, full of plans that must be moved forward, for his reconquest of D'Hara and the Midlands.

Kahlan collapsed into a chair. "Cara, I did the right thing—didn't I? The only thing I could have done."

Cara set herself to massaging Kahlan's shoulders. She had no answer.

"He'll understand," Kahlan insisted. "I had to. I have to protect Richard. Rahl is the biggest threat, but I can control him. He wouldn't kill Richard, not when he knows it would make me angry. While Richard lives, there's hope."

"Mmm," said Cara. That, at least, she believed.

No matter what she told Rahl, no matter what he'd made her do to prove her supposedly renewed loyalty, Cara had never lost her belief in Richard. Richard was the true Lord Rahl, but more, he was her friend. And he was a good man.

He was too good, too naïve, to understand that sometimes…but Cara wouldn't think of what Rahl had made her do. It wasn't important. And the Wizard was out of his power now.

"Someday, Richard and I will be together," Kahlan was saying drowsily. It had been a wearying day. "And he will know I did it all for him, and he will forgive me. Only for him—only for Richard. Richard. I love you, Richard…you know that, don't you?"

Cara let her hands drift up and through Kahlan's beautiful hair. Kahlan would do anything for Richard.

And Cara would always be there, to pick up the pieces—to lace Kahlan back into her corset of lies and schemes, all for Richard's sake.

But Cara did it for Kahlan. "Always," Cara whispered.

She looked, and saw that Kahlan was asleep.

"The only thing is…" Cara said softly, "how many times will Richard forgive you? How many times will he come back to you?"

Knowing Richard, a lot. But always?

Never mind. Cara was here for Kahlan. To pick up the pieces.


	12. Mutual Possession

**Mutual Possession**

Nicci bit her tongue on all the things she was dying to say about the Mother Confessor. She was smart enough to know that voicing them could only make Richard angry at _her_, and would make neither she nor Richard feel any better.

The two of them set up camp in silence, around the Wizard, who was asleep, a conjured blanket tucked lovingly around him by Richard.

Nicci had picked a good place; she thanked the Creator for the gentle stream nearby, the sheltered clearing, and the deserted landscape. If there were any banelings still killing for the Keeper, they weren't here making a nuisance of themselves.

Then she wondered why she was thanking the Creator, who had never done anything for her.

Her thoughts chased one another as she mechanically made dinner from the results of Richard's hunting and foraging. She was surprised he'd been able to find so much. Without magic (and even with it), she would have been hard-pressed to do the same.

Nicci didn't know whether she should be on her knees thanking the Creator for the Mother Confessor's betrayal of Richard, or scheming desperately to get the Mother Confessor back.

She couldn't bear the look of defeat in Richard's eyes. Knowing what he'd suffered, she would do anything to bring that sweet, naïve smile back to his face.

Even save the Mother Confessor, if she only knew how.

She truly was a fool.

"I'm sorry," Nicci said awkwardly, when the silence was too much for her.

She reached out toward Richard, but her fingers curled under at the last moment. The fire flickered. The Wizard turned over in his sleep and let out a snore.

The light dancing over Richard's face made shadows of what he would look like as an old man. It only made Nicci love him more.

"Thank you," Richard said at last. "But don't be. I thought I knew who she was, but…a part of me will always belong to her."

Nicci understood that. She could never let go of anything. All her ghosts clamored at her, but Richard was more important. She ignored them.

"Nicci," Richard touched her chin, gently, so that her eyes met his. "Kahlan is my past. But you are in my heart."

And he looked at her with such heartbreaking hesitancy that Nicci could resist no longer. A part of him would always love the Mother Confessor—but she was not such a fool as to reject what he could give her.

Nicci reached out, gently tracing the curve of Richard's jaw. When her lips met his, she closed her eyes.

She was remembering the first time she'd kissed Richard. He'd called her a monster.

He was probably right. If he pulled away, she would know.

But Richard kissed her _back._

Nicci's heart raced, and her fingers twisted in Richard's hair, and her skin tingled all over—

And a tiny bubble of smug satisfaction seemed to surround her heart.

* * *

><p>Richard had never felt so confused in his life.<p>

Kahlan's betrayal stung. At the same time, surely he deserved that she should hate him?

But that was hardly cause for her to suddenly abandon all her principles and help the very tyrant she'd spent her life working to defeat.

After two years and multiple quests, both large and small, Richard couldn't believe how little he understood Kahlan.

He didn't suppose he would ever stop wondering—but she'd made her choice.

Maybe she was happier this way.

Richard thought of the two women in his life while he hunted and skinned the rabbit for Nicci.

Nicci might not be an open book to him either—but Richard knew_ she _wasn't about to declare her allegiance to Darken Rahl.

A reluctant smile tugged at Richard's lips, when he thought of Nicci.

She'd really come through—helping him try and rescue Kahlan and Cara, who didn't want to be saved.

He knew that if Zedd were feeling better, he would warn Richard not to trust Nicci. Say she was evil, they had no proof she'd even stopped serving the Keeper, and wasn't Kahlan Richard's only love?

They ate in silence; Richard checked on Zedd, but his grandfather was still lost to the world—even the smell of cooking food hadn't served to wake him. Richard tucked the blanket closer around him, feeling worried.

Nicci spoke. "I'm sorry."

Richard was surprised. "Thank you, but don't be," he said, staring into those eyes, glowing with sympathy. "I thought I knew who she was, but…" he tried to explain. "A part of me will always belong to her." When Nicci looked down at her hands, at that, Richard made her look up. This was important. "Nicci. Kahlan is my past, but _you _are in my heart."

He willed her to understand what he meant, aware that, if he were making any sense at all by this point, it was more than he had any right to expect.

And she kissed him. Richard clutched her to him—she was like water and fire in his arms—

Zedd snored, and Richard pulled away from Nicci for a moment, his hands cradling her face, looking toward the sleeping wizard. Zedd seemed more peaceful now.

"I love you," Nicci whispered, and Richard, looking at her, knew what she meant. She was saying, _I love you_, but also, _you're mine_.

Richard smiled fiercely, liking the idea that they belonged together. He was hers—and she was his. He wouldn't have it any other way.

And Richard pulled Nicci away from the fire, for the illusion of privacy. Her breathing matched his, and he half-carried her—not too far. Just far enough.


	13. Love is Fleeting

**Love is Fleeting**

The next morning dawned bright and warm. Nicci stretched lazily, saw Richard was still asleep beside her, and brushed a strand of hair off his cheek. It was getting longer; soon, Richard would have to cut it, unless he wanted to look like his brother.

Nicci's brow furrowed at the thought of Darken Rahl, and how he was doubtless even now searching for them, but she wouldn't let anything mar her happiness today.

Getting up, she started making breakfast (stew from what was left from last night; it was too bad food was one of the elemental exceptions to spontaneous conjuring) and checked on the Wizard. He was still asleep, but he would wake soon; his injuries, with her help, were nearly gone.

At this thought, it belatedly occurred to Nicci that she should be dressed; she went back to where Richard slept, gathering their clothes along the way, and piled them on the ground. Then, with a decisive gesture, she magicked all the dust and dirt and blood and worse from the garments. She even changed the color of her gown, from black to a deep blue, before putting it on.

By the time the Wizard stirred, Richard was awake and dressed, and Nicci was just serving the stew. "Zedd!" Richard exclaimed happily, but the Wizard didn't answer, just gulped down all the stew Nicci gave him.

Richard seemed disappointed, and Nicci wished she knew more about how to treat residual Mord'Sith related trauma. But that was one thing she'd never been called upon to deal with, even when she was a true Sister of the Light.

At last, they were on their way. Nicci didn't know where they were going, and she didn't much care—she had no home, not anymore. She never wanted to see the Prelate again, and her own village, where she had been born, hadn't survived the centuries.

As long as they were headed far from Rahl and his Mord'Sith, and the bewildering, infuriating Mother Confessor, Nicci was happy.

Nicci was nearly dizzy with joy; as they walked, Richard took her hand, while the Wizard shuffled along behind them. It should have felt silly, but Nicci's skin hummed from just that much contact.

Nicci stopped herself from planning their future together (in a house with a white picket fence, with lots of children and a garret for the Wizard) but only just.

The thought of children coincided with a strange, gathering sort of feeling from her midsection. Nicci put a hand over her stomach, trying to figure out if she were hungry or ill—but the feeling was neither. It was more as though all her power had elected to migrate from her hands to her middle—

Not her stomach, Nicci realized—her womb! Was she pregnant? And if she was, how could she possibly know already?

Fascinated, Nicci paid even less attention to where she was going, confident Richard wouldn't let her fall.

Until he stopped, suddenly, and the Wizard stepped on the hem of Nicci's dress, and the wood was full of the sounds of soldiers, armor clanking as they drew their weapons—

Nicci's hands danced with lightning as she tensed—how dare these people (D'Harans? Random villagers on a Sister-of-the-Dark hunt? She'd quit the Keeper, for the Creator's sake!) interrupt her idyll with Richard?

Richard had drawn his Sword, face drawn and muscles tensed, and Nicci knew he would fight _for _her, instead of against her—

Before any of them could move, a hooded man rode forward. Nicci waited, sensing this was the leader. As he dismounted, she felt the power building in her palms, itching for release.

The man held up a hand. "Please, we're all friends here," he said, in a low, cultured voice. The accent caught at Nicci's attention like a hangnail on silk. "I simply wish to speak to you—both."

Richard didn't lower his sword, but Nicci didn't reach out with her powers and fry the man where he stood. She would regret her moment of hesitation ever after.

The man stepped forward more, until he was just a few feet away from them. And he lowered his hood.

Nicci barely registered anything but his eyes—they burned with a deadly force that chilled her to the bone. And she found she couldn't look away.

Panicking, Nicci threw mental wards around her most secret self—where her love for Richard, her hopes about her possible pregnancy, her guilt and self-doubt and bitter self-loathing for all she'd done in service to the Keeper, dwelt.

Just in time—the man's hypnotic eyes seared her soul, and Nicci was helpless as he ripped control from her body.

She was a prisoner, watching as he made her come to him. As he stroked her hair.

Deep inside her protected thoughts, Nicci screamed, _Richard!_

But he couldn't hear her. And she thought she must despair.

* * *

><p>The morning started off well—when Richard woke he stared around desperately for Nicci, but she was there, making breakfast. Her dress was clean and sparkling, and blue today, and she was humming.<p>

Richard grinned at her. She gestured to his clothes, which were also clean and sparkling, though their usual color.

Zedd even woke up for breakfast—"Good morning, Zedd!" Richard tried, hoping to get some response from his grandfather. Still nothing, but he wouldn't give up hope.

Richard no longer had the benefit of the compass telling him where to go, but it seemed perfectly clear that they should visit Aydindril, because if Kahlan had decided not to take her duties as the Mother Confessor seriously, it would be up to Dennee to help Richard lead the Resistance against Darken Rahl.

If they started soon enough, they might be able to stop him before he got too big a foothold back in D'Hara.

It was a plan, and Richard knew the approximate way to Aydindril; he was pleased Zedd seemed to be feeling better, walking on his own, although Zedd still hadn't said anything.

What Richard wouldn't give right now for even a lecture on control, on leaving Kahlan and Cara in Rahl's clutches, anything!

He took Nicci's hand, glad some good had come of all this. Today, she was more beautiful than ever—her hair shone like the sunlight, but the real change was in her eyes. Richard had never seen her look so happy before.

The soldiers surrounded them quickly—Richard was instantly alert, drawing his Sword—how had they appeared like this? Richard supposed the soldiers must've had help from some sort of powerful magic—

But powerful enough that even Nicci could sense nothing?

The leader stepped forward. "Please, we're all friends here. I simply wish to speak to you." And at last he tore his eyes from Nicci. Jealousy and mistrust filled Richard's veins like poison. "Both."

And then he lowered his hood.

The man was nothing special in appearance—features regular. Richard noted the tattoos covering his bald head—a swooping eagle, a twisting snake, and a third eye in the center of his forehead, so he looked like some strange, alien creature—

His eyes were locked on Nicci's.

And then Nicci walked forward, and he put a hand on her hair and she didn't cause lightning to strike him where he stood, and Richard got a cold feeling in his gut. Either this was some old friend of Nicci's—but Nicci had no old friends, everyone she'd once known was either dead or wanted to see her that way—

Or—or what? Had he done something to her?

"Come, my love," the man said coolly. "There is nothing to interest us here."

Richard's blood boiled, and the Sword glowed red. "Who are you?" he demanded, keeping himself poised to strike—but how could he avoid hurting Nicci?

"I am Jagang. Emperor Jagang," said the man. "And you are useless to me, young Rahl. I could take your companion, but he looks dead on his feet." And he turned to one of the soldiers. "Kill them."

Richard sprang forward and swung the Sword at Jagang's head—but Jagang was faster; locking eyes with Nicci again, he seemed to communicate with her without words—

She looked at Richard and smiled a truly cruel travesty of a smile, lips pulled back in a feral grimace—and Richard knew, knew to his bones, that this wasn't Nicci—Jagang had done something to her, some powerful magic—Nicci had a cruel streak, but he'd never seen her look like _this_—

And then, in a flash of light, Jagang and Nicci were gone.

The soldiers closed in, and with a howl of rage, Richard fought them, fury burning through his blood and making his Sword burn—

When at last it was done, Richard surveyed the carnage, looking for something that would identify this Jagang.

There was nothing.

And there, in the lonely clearing, with the dead and a mute Wizard who might or might not ever recover his sanity, Richard felt despair.

Nicci was gone. Kahlan was gone. Cara was gone. Even Zedd was gone, in all but body. He'd lost everything, so quickly.

And he hadn't even told Nicci—hadn't told her he loved her.

Richard threw back his head and screamed at the sky: "NOOOOOOOO!"


End file.
